


The Waiting Room

by summertime227



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summertime227/pseuds/summertime227
Summary: Jughead jostles Betty's shoulders and she looks down at his hands, unable to remember when he put them there. He shakes her again, gently, and she looks up at him. She sees the fear in his eyes and cold dread fills every one of her veins as she realizes she is really awake. She had heard him correctly. He opens his mouth to say it again and her fingers start tightening into fists before he even gets the words out."Fred's been shot."





	1. Chapter 1

When Betty wakes up the next morning, it is to the sound of Jughead's voice.

"Arch? Archie, slow down. I can't-"

Her boyfriend's words, although quiet, hold an intensity she's never quite heard from him and she knows right away something is wrong. For just a second, she swells with pride at the knowledge that she knows him so well. But then she remembers the events of last night and the feeling immediately tastes bitter on her tongue. _Was he still her boyfriend?_

"It's OK, you don't have to. She's... she's here."

Betty yawns and rubs the long night off of her face with both hands. She sits up, groaning at an ache in her neck, put there by the lumpy, floral sofa. She cranes her neck to peak through the kitchen’s window and sees that Jughead is facing away from her, hunched over and muttering into his cell. She stands up and walks over to the kitchen, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just... hang in there. We're on our way."

Jughead hangs up the phone. He turns around and jumps slightly, seemingly startled by her sudden presence in front of him. He rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his grey Henley, the same way he did after FP hugged him outside of the police station, except this time, Betty doesn't move forward to comfort him with her touch.

"What's wrong?" she asks, brows knit together in worry.

Jughead fiddles with his phone, passing it clumsily between his two shaking hands. He swallows a lump in his throat and finally meets her eyes. He looks… sympathetic, cautious, and utterly defeated.

"Betts..."

 

She's asleep. She's still asleep and she's having a nightmare. She must be because the next words out of Jughead's mouth don't make any sense at all. She watches him move around the trailer frantically. He's saying something else, but she can't hear the words over the buzzing in her ears, can only see his lips moving. Suddenly, he's right in front of her.

"Betty, did you hear me?"

Jughead jostles her shoulders and she looks down at his hands, unable to remember when he put them there. He shakes her again, gently, and she looks up at him. She sees the fear in his eyes and cold dread fills every one of her veins as she realizes she is really awake. She had heard him correctly. He opens his mouth to say it again and her fingers start tightening into fists before he even gets the words out.

"Fred's been shot."


	2. Chapter 2

Betty looks down and desperately wishes she had something else to wear. She’s still in the same top and skirt from last night. The top seems overly dressy today; the skirt seems shorter. She spots a light grey hoodie she's seen Jughead wear and pulls it on. It falls past the hem of her skirt so she leaves it unzipped. She ties her hair up in her signature ponytail and pulls it painfully tight while Jughead places his beanie on his head. She bends over, shoving her feet clumsily into her sherpa-lined boots and pulling them on. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jughead reach for the leather jacket still lying on the couch and freezes. She frowns and stands up slowly.

“Jug.”

He turns to look at her and his dark hair falls over his eyes. Betty flashes back to last night, to him standing in the rain with a proud look on his face. Her eyes linger on his for a long second before her gaze falls to the snake-emblazoned jacket in his hands. She grimaces, the corners of her mouth turning downward. She looks back up at him and gives him an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

If Jughead _does_ accept the Serpents’ offer, right now is not the time to announce it.

“Right,” he says, instantly understanding the look on her face. He throws the leather jacket back on the couch and grabs his denim one off the hook.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing the keys to FP’s truck and opening the door for her.

Betty walks past his outstretched arm, leaving the sanctuary of the small trailer and stepping out into the cold morning air.  
  


* * *

  
The drive to the hospital is silent and takes much too long. Betty leans against the door, staring out the window while Jughead focuses on the road, shoulders tense and finger tapping against the steering wheel.

As they drive across town, the initial shock Betty had felt earlier begins to fade away. Her jaw starts to shake and she puts her hand over her mouth to hold it still. She tries to hold back the tears brimming in her eyes. She closes them and thinks of Fred Andrews. Fred Andrews, who she had known since she was a young girl. Fred Andrews, who always had a sweet smile for his son’s best friend, who built a ladder for the tree house because she was too scared to climb the rope, and who would make macaroni and cheese whenever she came over for dinner because he knew it was her favourite and that her mother never let her eat that many carbs. Fred Andrews, who gave the love of her young life a home when his own father could not. Betty opens her eyes again, the tears falling against her will and further smudging the mascara already staining the sensitive skin beneath them. She lets out a shaky breath, trying to cry quietly enough so that Jughead won’t notice.

No such luck.

“He’ll be ok…” he says.

She jumps slightly when he breaks the long silence.

Jughead's hand twitches, the urge to reach out and touch her hand or her shoulder or her knee coming naturally, but he thinks better of it and tightens his fingers around the steering wheel.

Betty doesn’t look at him. She just wipes her tears away and nods like he is right. She doesn’t miss the tremor in Jughead’s voice though and wishes he’d sound more convincing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betty & Jughead's relationship would probably be the last thing on Archie's mind right now, but it's a bughead story, what can ya do?

Archie hears her before he sees her.

“I’m looking for Archie Andrews! Please, F-Fred Andrews, h-he…”

The nurse must have pointed her in their direction because not a second later, Betty comes barrelling around the corner. She is fisting the cuffs of a grey sweater which fall past her fingertips. Her eyes dart around frantically until they land on him. He stands up quickly as she makes her way over to him, already holding her arms out.

“Arch-"

Her voice breaks and he collapses into her embrace. He’s choking out sobs, not really crying actual tears. Betty rubs his back soothingly. Eventually, he clears his throat and pulls away. Betty moves to hug Veronica who had been crying silently on the side lines. Archie looks behind Betty.

“Jug?” he asks weakly.

“He’s just parking the truck,” she says quietly. Veronica is clinging to her as Betty strokes her hair.

When Jughead arrives a minute later, he pulls Archie into a fierce hug and Archie clings to the denim of his jacket with shaking hands.

“It all happened s-so fast. I- I don’t- I couldn’t-“ Archie tries to say, his voice hoarse and slightly muffled by his best friend’s shoulder.

“Shhh,” Jughead says softly, leading him over to the closest chair. “Here, Arch, sit down.”

And he does.  
  


* * *

 

No one has said anything for an hour and 42 minutes. The waiting room is silent except for the din of some old sitcom coming from the television hanging above them. Archie, sick of looking at the same spot on the carpet, looks around and observes his friends with tired eyes.

He looks down first, at Ronnie leaning against him. He can’t see her face through her curtain of raven hair, but from her even breaths, he can tell she’s fallen asleep. Somehow even in sleep, her grip on his bicep has not loosened.

Archie looks to one corner of the room where Kevin, who had showed up a little while ago, is shaking his leg and fidgeting with his empty coffee cup. Archie looks down and sees a small pile of white Styrofoam scraps scattered around his sneakers.

He then looks to the opposite corner where Cheryl is sitting, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around her shins. She is resting her head on top of them and staring at the wall.

Finally, Archie looks at his two best friends, sitting across from him. Jughead sits hunched forward, his elbows on his knees and his knuckles under his chin. Betty sits with her legs crossed. She has her elbow propped on the arm rest and her face is resting in her palm. Her eyes are closed, but Archie can tell by the way she’s nibbling on her bottom lip that she’s still awake. It’s her tell. It means she’s thinking hard about something. Betty and Jughead are sitting next to each other, but aren’t touching. In fact, Archie realizes, they have barely touched or looked at each other since they got here. This strikes him as weird because lately it had seemed that they had forgotten the meaning of personal space whenever they were around each other.

Archie thinks about what Veronica had said the day before, about Betty and Jughead being soulmates. He wonders if it’s true. At first, the concept of his two lifelong best friends being together had surprised him, even confused him if he was being honest. Whatever changed between them, he hadn’t even noticed it happening. But he had to admit, they brought out the best in each other. Archie remembers Betty and Jughead at the beginning of the school year and there was no question. Betty had become stronger since then, more honest about her feelings and more open about her anxieties. Jughead could ease the tension in her shoulders with a touch, a look. As for Jughead, he definitely smiled more around Betty. He had become less – of course, not unentirely – cynical. She made him want to have family dinners, go to school dances, be romantic… something Archie never would’ve guessed Jughead to be. They solved a murder together, for christ’s sake. They’re _Betty &Jughead_. Best friends. Partners. And yes, soulmates.

Archie thinks back to last night, somewhat bitterly. They sat in a booth at Pop’s, Betty laughing and looking more carefree than he had ever seen her, Jughead with his arm around her and looking at her like she was the best thing that he had ever been lucky enough to call his. So blissfully unaware. Archie looks at them now, and at the empty space between them, and can’t help but see that something has definitely changed since last night.


	4. Chapter 4

_LAST NIGHT_

“Juggie…”

He looked up at Betty, startled, like he'd forgotten for a second that she was there.

“You got a girl in there, kid?” Viper, who he’d seen hanging around with his father, asked amused. He leaned forward, trying to peer into the trailer.

Jughead put a hand on his shoulder to stop him and tried to disguise it as a friendly gesture. He squeezed his shoulder in what he hoped came off as gratitude.

“Thanks for this, really. I gotta…” he trailed off, nodding behind him.

“Yeah, sure thing,” Viper said backing up. He then loudly addressed the leather-clad congregation behind him. “Alright guys, you heard the kid. Disperse!” They started to walk away and Viper turned back to Jughead once more. “If you need anything, come by the Whyte Wyrm.”

Jughead just nodded. He watched them leave and headed back inside. Betty was pacing in the living room, her nails digging into her palms. It took her a second to notice his return, but when she did, she halted and looked at him. The look in her eyes felt like a fist clenching around his heart.

“Take it off,” her voice was cold, pleading.

“Betts…”

“Please?” Her eyes became glassy with unshed tears. “Please take it off?” she asked again desperately.

Jughead sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Betty, try to understand-"

“Oh my god! You’re actually considering this!” It wasn’t a question.

He looked everywhere but at her. “I don’t know… Maybe.”

Betty let out a choked breath that almost sounded like the beginning of a laugh. “They’re criminals, Jug. Is that how you want to be? Like them?! Like your father?!”

Jughead scoffed. “So… what? That article actually meant nothing to you? Your little speech was all a lie?”

“N-no, but- well, what about us, huh?”

“I’m doing this for us! For god’s sake, you got a death threat, Betty! Being a Serpent comes with a certain amount of protection and-"

“I saw the look on your face,” she cut him off, her voice becoming eerily calm. “When they handed that jacket to you. You’re doing this for you.”

Jughead cringed at Betty’s words, remembering how he’d said the same thing to her at his birthday party. He also cringed because he knew she was partially right. _He’s family_ , Viper had said. And it had felt good.

"People in gangs get hurt, get killed. I mean, what if something happened to you!?"

"Nothing's going to happen to me."

"But you can't know that! You're just telling me what I want to hear! You don't actually _know_ anything!"

Betty lifted her fists to her face and pushed the heels of her hands into her closed eyes. It was only then that Jughead noticed the blood trickling out from between her clenched fingers. He gasped and his eyes widened.

“Betty, stop!” he urged, stepping forward quickly and prying her clenched fists open.

She looked down and also seemed surprised by what she had been doing. Her hands began to shake and she got a faraway look in her eyes

Jughead lead Betty to the coffee table by her shoulders and pushed her down gently to sit. He left for a second, coming back with a first aid kit and sat on the couch in front of her. He took her hand in his, turning it palm up and began to clean the moon-shaped cuts. She kept her eyes on the floor, occasionally wincing from the pain. He finished one hand and moved onto the other as the silence stretched on between them.

“Don’t do this,” she whispered. He was just securing the bandage and if he wasn’t sitting so close, he surely wouldn’t have heard her.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

She slipped her hand out of his, forced to pull it away with a little more effort than usual when he tried to hold on. She stood up and he watched her as she went into the bathroom, closing the door hard behind her.  
  


  
A little later, they were sitting in the living room, Betty on one floral couch and Jughead on the other on the opposite side of the room. Jughead didn’t have the heart to suggest taking Betty home and Betty couldn’t make herself leave. Despite the things that had been said, they both still couldn’t help but crave the other’s presence. 

Betty thought, _Tomorrow, everything will be different_ , and she wanted to put it off for as long as possible. She looked up at Jughead who was leaning against the back of the couch. He had draped one arm over his eyes, his fingers twirling a lock of his dark hair, a nervous habit. Betty glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was already 2AM. And suddenly the exhaustion washed over her like a wave. She laid down on her side, lifting her legs up and resting her head on the arm of the couch. She had only meant to rest her eyes.

Jughead heard Betty’s breathing even out. He had been aware of every breath she took as they sat in the darkened trailer much too far from each other. He lifted his arm from over his eyes to see Betty had fallen asleep. His eyes drifted over her sleeping form, landing on her face. For the first time since the Serpents had arrived, it was devoid of worry. She looked peaceful, and he immediately felt the tension melt from his shoulders as well. He let his head fall back onto the couch and his heavy lids flutter shut, powerless to fight the sleep that overcame him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All that medical jargon, I have no idea what I'm talking about...

Veronica is first to notice the doctor walking toward them.

“Archie,” she says sternly, nudging him.

He looks up quickly.

Veronica squeezes his hand as they stand up along with Betty and Jughead, Cheryl and Kevin.

“Mr. Andrews?” the doctor says, looking between Archie, Kevin and Jughead.

“That’s me,” Archie says. “Is he…?” he trails off, afraid to finish his thought.

“Your father is very lucky, Mr. Andrews. We were able to remove the bullet, stop the bleeding and get his blood pressure under control. He’s stable.”

Archie looks at the ceiling, inhaling deeply and exhaling a shaky breath. Veronica weaves her fingers through his and rubs his back with her other hand. Archie looks back at the doctor.

“What else?”

“Well, the bullet punctured a lung. He’s on the respirator right now, but we'll need to go in and repair the puncture.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“There is of course risk involved with any invasive operation, but it’s a fairly common procedure and we expect your father should make a full recovery.”

At this point, Archie looks at his two best friends who both give him watery smiles.

“Can I see him?”

“He’ll be asleep, but of course. He’s in room 227 when you’re ready. Excuse me.” The doctor leaves with one last sympathetic look Betty is sure he’s practiced in the mirror.

 

Betty and Jughead follow Archie’s hurried steps to his father’s room, Veronica, Kevin and Cheryl opting to stay behind.

 _We’ll be here_ , Veronica had said with a warm smile.

They reach the room labelled 227. Betty and Jughead linger in the doorway while Archie walks hesitantly inside. Betty gasps softly when she sees Fred, passed out, pale, with a scary looking tube shoved down his throat. She watches as Archie falls to his knees next to his father’s head. He grasps his father’s hand and whispers something she can’t hear into his knuckles, laughing softly through tears.

It’s too much for Betty. A hundred different thoughts race through her head all at once, at the forefront: _Fred is going to be OK_ , but also _Fred almost died_. She suddenly feels very overwhelmed. She takes a few shaky steps backward, before turning around and running from the room.

She runs past the waiting room, past a confused Kevin and Cheryl and a worried Veronica. She keeps running until she’s outside. She finally slows and takes gulps of fresh winter air. She flexes her hands into fists and out again a few times, trying to work the tremor out of them and finally lets out the broken wail she's been holding in since…

_This morning? Last night? Jason’s memorial? The first day of sophomore year? She doesn't know. Is she being stupid? She has a boy she loves. She should support him, right? Keep him close, not push him away. He asked her to understand and she does. She doesn't like it, but she sees the appeal of the Serpents for Jughead. All he’s ever wanted is a family, somewhere he belongs. And here it is, right in front of him. But Riverdale is changing. If she wasn’t sure before, she sure as hell is now. The violence taking over her previously peaceful small town scares her. And the thought of Jughead getting caught in the middle of it scares her even more. Her traitorous brain imagines the shooting at Pop’s, but instead of Fred, it's Jughead who slumps onto the floor, blood pooling around him and it's her, not Archie, holding his head in her lap and screaming for help._

Betty shudders at the thought and shakes her head roughly.

_No, that’s not what happened. She won't let that happen. Whatever complications came their way, they had always been able to get through it together. They solved a murder together for christ’s sake! He has done so much for her. She can do this for him. Him. She loves him, she loves him, she loves him._

Her thoughts are interrupted by a voice behind her, his voice.

“Betts?”

She whips around. He’s looking at her with a worried expression. She looks up and instantly notices his beanie is missing. _When had he taken it off?_

She chokes out another sob as she stumbles the few steps between them and practically throws herself into his arms. She stands on her tip-toes and wraps her arms around his waist, her hands under his shoulder blades. For a second, Jughead stiffens, seemingly surprised by her sudden embrace. But he quickly snaps out if it, wrapping her up in his arms. He clutches to her waist with one hand and cradles the back of her head with the other. He sighs deeply and she is hyper-aware of his warm breath on her neck. The last 12 hours has taken its toll on her and she can’t be close enough to him. Her face is in the crook of his neck and she turns slightly so her lips are pressed against his skin. She places slow, open-mouthed kisses there, working her way up from his collarbone to his jaw. He hums and his hold on her tightens. The hand at the base of her ponytail grips tighter as he directs her lips to his. This kiss is different than the previous ones they shared. It doesn’t hold the soft sweetness of their first kiss, nor the frantic heat of the ones they’d shared last night. This kiss is bruising. It’s an apology, a promise. Jughead’s dark eyelashes brush the tops of his cheeks, but Betty keeps her eyes open, watching him the whole time. She tastes her own tears on his lips. When they finally have to part for oxygen, Jughead pulls Betty back into his embrace.

“I love you,” Betty croaks into the soft material of his shirt above his heart and Jughead whispers it back into her hair, adding, “So much.”


End file.
